


Working it Out

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:19:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Pre-Pilot for the prompt 'I found you watching me while I sweat from exercising'.





	Working it Out

She had put in the hard yards and miles later they were finally paying off. She’d always been a little resistant to exercising, despite her medical training. Heart health, increased lung capacity, mental and emotional wellbeing yada yada yada… she knew she had no choice but to keep up with the big boys, now. But the testosterone levels in the gym were often chokingly high.

She’d heard about Agent Fox Mulder, though never met him. He was highly intelligent, Oxford educated. A little out there, according to water cooler chatter. She figured his work in violent crimes meant he was either inured to the potentially traumatic impacts of the work, or he had absorbed enough of the horror to be a ticking timebomb,ready to mete out whatever form of latent assholery he excelled in. Either way,he would no doubt try to use his size to exert power over her. She’d spent a lifetime literally looking up to people but she wouldn’t give her new partner the satisfaction of figuratively looking down on her. If nothing else, Dana Scully liked to rise to the occasion. And if that meant, gym work-outs, so be it.

She tugged at her sports bra, untwisting the band at her breastbone and flapped the looser fabric of her new Nike workout top to air out her already hot skin. She took a sip of water from her bottle, ready to move on to the next piece of equipment. There was a sudden rush on the equipment, bodies milling around. Scully unhooked her towel from the handlebars of the bike and headed for the weight rack, choosing a pair of five-pound dumbbells. She found a quiet spot and as she prepared to run through her set, a voice interrupted her

“Dana?”She turned to see Tom Colton checking out her ass.

Hands on hips, eyes still lingering where they had no business, he looked fresh and dry.

“What do you want, Tom?”

“Dinner soon.” He checked over his shoulder, where a gaggle of preening agents were bench-pressing and spotting each other.

“Your team?” she said, nodding over to the group.

“VCS,”he replied. “The sharpest team in the Bureau.”

She started her bicep curls. “I’m going to be busy for a while, settling into my new role, Tom. Dinner will have to wait.”

“I heard you were assigned to Spooky Mulder. Commiserations. Bad news travels fast.Lunch then.” He stepped forward and she smelled his cologne, overpowering musk.His laugh was unnaturally loud. Behind him, his colleagues grinned in her direction. He growled a whisper to her, “Please just nod your head, Danes. I’ve got a reputation to uphold here.”

She held her head perfectly still. Held his gaze, as his lips whitened and his nostrils flared slightly. “The FBI has a focus on providing equal opportunities for female agents, Tom. And this little initiation test with your team-mates is a poor reflection on the changing culture of the agency. I won’t play into the hands of a bunch of egotistical men who demean women, women who are working twice as hard as they are just to barely qualify for lower-end roles.” She wiped her brow on her upper arm and continued her reps.

He stood there, arms folded. “Why so touchy? I’m not demeaning you. It’s just a lunch date, Dana. We’ve had them before.”

Sweat trickled down the sides of her nose, pooled at her cleavage, stuck behind her knees. She was damned hot, skin prickling with adrenaline and irritation. “I’m not agreeing to go on a date with you just to impress your colleagues.”

“What’s wrong with you, Danes? We always got on so well together.” He practically hissed the words at her.

She felt her veins fizz with a rumbling anger. “What’s wrong with me, Tom,” she said in a low tone, “is men like you.” She paused to collect herself, before she really went off. “Call me for that lunch date when you find that intelligent, reasonable and judicious person you used to be.”

He waited a while, clenching his hands in time to her own work out rhythm. Eventually, he slunk away back to his group where she watched him posture and laugh, no doubt at her expense. She put in another 30 minutes, turning her back on the group so she wouldn’t have to look at their arrogant faces.

As she walked down the passageway to the locker rooms, the group rushed behind her, splitting into two as they jostled and elbowed their way past. They disappeared into the men’s room, leaving the air reeking of sweat, bad deodorant and bullshit. She stood outside the women’s room, gripping onto her towel and water bottle, trying not to breathe in the stench,but heart hammering. For a moment there, her feet had been lifted off the ground and she’d been left feeling out of control and overpowered. Her mind fast-forwarded to the next day, when she would have to meet her new partner. She needed both feet planted firmly on the ground during that encounter. She pressed her mouth into the back of her wrist and braved a couple of deep breaths.

Behind her, the men’s room door opened and someone walked past. She stiffened, until a pleasant smell of cologne wafted out.

“The VCS has more dicks than the Triple X channel,” he said, not even looking at her.

With a smile on her face, she watched the man walk down the stairs towards the pool and wondered about the confidence of someone who would swim in bright red Speedos.


End file.
